We Must Be Killers
by riddlewhorecrux
Summary: { Non-Magic AU } Before the beginning of World War Two, an unexpected meeting between a young teenage boy and an older and mysterious man, will forever change their lives and the course of the upcoming war.
1. Chapter 1

The sound of the doorbell rang in the big old manor, making Harry jump from his chair. He blinked a few times before he slowly rose and made his way down the stairs. Either the person who was waiting outside was very patient either he or she somehow knew Harry was home.

He opened the heavy oak door and found himself face to face with an old woman. She seemed slightly older than himself, maybe she was 75 but it was very hard to tell. Her hair was still black despite her age and her clothes were very simple, but elegant. All in all she seemed like a very rich person.

She told him that her name was Bella Lestrange and the asked him if they could talk inside the house. Harry was tempted to refuse but the woman seemed to not take 'no' as an answer, so he let her in. He took her bag and led her to to one of the best guest rooms from the first floor. When they arrived in front of the door, the woman took her bag from him and said:

"I want us to speak right now, even if is very late. I'm going to change my clothes so we can talk after."

Harry wanted to remind her that it was his home, so things were going to be done when he chose to, but the cold and demanding tone of the guest made no room for arguments.

"I'll be waiting you downstairs, then."

He made to turn around and leave but the voice of the woman suddenly stopped him.

"One more thing." She reached in the pocket of her black coat and gave him a dusted letter. "I think you should read this." She stepped inside the room without a word and closed the door behind her, leaving Harry in the corridor, staring at the name of Tom Marvolo Riddle written on the top of the letter. For the first time in so many years he felt his old and tired heart beat faster in his chest and for a moment he was looking again in Tom grey eyes.

When Bella arrived in the dining room, Harry was seated on the black leather couch and the woman took the place across him.

"You wanted to talk, so talk, " he said, no caring he was being rude. She gave him a cold stare and said: "I want you to tell me about him."

For a moment Harry was sure that he was going to scream at the women to leave the hell out of his house, but he simply answered:

"No. "

She seemed to expect his answer because she titled her head to the side and gave him an almost mocking smile.

"Let's do things this way. I tell you about my little past with Tom and you tell me what I want to know. Simple as that.

Harry was ready to refuse but his curiosity was bigger than the little voice from the back of his head, who screamed at him that it was a very, very bad idea.

"You first, " was his only answer.

She took a deep breath and began to talk loud and clear:

"I was born into a very wealthy family in Germany. My mother was from the country and when she married my father they chose to stay there. I meet Tom when he started to teach at the school me and my sisters learned. As I think you well know, he was devilish handsome, smart and very charming so it was no surprise when I fell in love with him. Of course, I wasn't the only one, but I was definitely the most persevernt with my feelings. Soon after that I found that he was the leader of any strange organisation, so in order to be closer to him, I joined it. Things went well for some time, but my mother found found about my little crush so she decided to take the problem into her own hands. Tom was rich, but in her eyes he wasn't good enough for me. She forbidden me to talk to him anymore. I was furious and ready to run away from home. I'm sure this decision seems childish in your eyes. Throwing away everything for a man who didn't care for a me at all. At the time it was strangely romantic."

"So, did you ? " said Harry. "Run, I mean."

"No. He left shortly after. All I could manage to find from my father, was that he was going to England. My parents married me to a man named Rodolphus Lestrange a few days later, fearing that I could go after Tom. We were married 50 years. He died a year ago."

"I'm sorry for your loss," said Harry despite the fact he was not sorry at all.

"I"m not. I never loved him. I intended to spend the rest of my life taking care of my family business, but a month ago the letter that you hold in your hands was given to me. It was supposed to arrive over 50 years ago but it was lost in the chaos of the war. Is strange how lost things always find their way back to us in the end, don't you think ?"

Harry chose to remain silent.

"I was mad with happiness when I received the letter but to my great disappointment, the only important thing written there was your name, so I decided to come here and learn the truth. Tom owned me at least that."

It was really strange for Harry to hear someone else talking about Tom and he wasn't at all surprised when he felt anger took over him.

"He doesn't own you anything, and neither am I."

"My life was destroyed because of him, so I think I deserve at least to find the truth ". If you were me, you wouldn't want the same thing ?" She looked him in the eyes for a very long time. "So tell me your story, Harry James Potter."

Harry gulped. He didn't want to open his entire past to some stranger, but a deal was a deal and he was a man of word.

"What do you want to know ?" asked Harry.

Bella gave him a wicked smile, looking very pleased with herself.

"Everything. From the beginning until the very end. I want to know everything."


	2. Chapter 2

The day I was born, was the first time that my father ever knew how true pain feels like. On that day he gained a child and lost his wife, my mother. I was the youngest of the Potter family, one of the most wealthy and respected families in London. Our manor was one of the oldest buildings who still is intact after the war.

I wasn't suppose to inherit all of this at all. I had an older brother and sister, so to say, I was at the bottom of the list. At the time I didn't waste my time thinking who will have the house. I was nothing but a child. But I love the manor with all my heart. It was the place where I was born, the place I grew up and most important, the place where I meet him .I still remember the time when me and my sister Bella, got lost in the deep forest around the place. It ended up with my father being very angry and an interdiction to leave the house for one day. Will, being the oldest child, was, of course, on our father's side.

Still, no matter how much I loved the house, the big lake in front of it was the place where I spent my life. Even now I can clearly remember the cold water on my skin. It was my safe place to hide.

" I don't want to ever forget about it, " I once told Tom. " I want it to be forever fresh in my memory as it is right now."

He didn't say anything, but I know he understood me. He always did. Tom was the only person who saw me for I truly was. I didn't exactly have a close relationship with my family. My father and my brothers always blamed me for our mother's death even if they didn't actually say it. They didn't need to. In time, I learned to not care at all. It was the best thing I could do.

I was a strange child. I didn't show any interest in the things my schoolmates seemed to love, so I wasn't close with the other children. After school I dropped my schoolbag in my room, grabbed a book and spend the rest of my day at the lake, reading and if the weather was warm enough, swimming. I've read all the books my father had in his library, even if didn't understand them at the time.

We had a smaller house not far from our manor, on the other side of the lake. I spend many days there, pretending that i lived on my own. Sometimes, when my father was not home for days, i even slept there from time to time.

In the summer of 1939, when I was 16, my father rented the little house and warned me and my brothers no not go there anymore. I was furious because my refuge was taken away from me, and during the next three weeks I spied the activities that happened there. They were many boxes full of the future owner things brought there almost every day by some workers. I intended to enter the house but my father warning stopped me so I gave up the idea.

And not so far from our country, a war was about to start.

" May i speak with the owner of the house ? "

I flinched. It was evening, in the second week of June. I was seated by a tree at the lake, and I was looking very intently at the water that seemed to shine in the dim light. The words, even if they were said in a calm and controlled tone, made me lose all I was thinking about in just a second.

I sit up and confronted... a very attractive man. He appeared to be no older than thirty, although he could pass for less. The man certainly wasn't from here. He was extremely handsome, with pale skin, very dark grey eyes and hair. I was snapped out of my analyzation by his cold stare.

" I"m his son. What is the problem ? " I asked, suddenly aware I was alone.

The servants were probably inside, making dinner. I took a note in my head to have a conversation with them by allowing a stranger into the house without saying anything.

" I whish to borrow a car from you ", he said looking me in the eyes.

" Who are you ? " I asked the stranger.

Evan if he didn't do anything, I felt for the first time in my life like an child in front of an adult. Weak and powerless.

" Tom Riddle. I live there."

He pointed at the small house.

So this is how he could enter the manor. He just walked on the road alongside the lake.

" He isn't home right now."

The rest of my family were at Viena in vacation, but I chose not to go. The idea of spending my entire summer with them was very disturbing to me. My father was angry at first but he couldn't exactly forced me to accompany them.

He raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

" Even so, I'm asking for a car," said the handsome man. "I'm afraid mine is broken."

He smiled but something was really strange about it.

"I'm sure your father wouldn't mind if you borrowed me one." He titled his head to the side almost like a child. " I sincerely hope I didn't scare you and if I did so I will take my leave."

Now I can see very clear that he was manipulating me. Evan at our first meeting I didn't want to seem weak or scared in front of him.

" You didn't scare me." I said turning around. " Please follow me."

A few drops of rain begin to fall as we left the lake. The garage was on the right side of the manor so we had to walk down a few stairs on our way through the garden. At some moment I slipped, but the man's strong hand caught my upper arm and he hold me tight. I looked at him and said:

" I walk on these stairs everyday. I wasn't about to fall."

He was amused by my annoyance.

One we were in front of the garage I stepped in it and came back a few seconds later with a pair of keys and handed them over to him.

He pulled the car out and lowered its window.

" Thank you." Riddle looked calmly at the road and then back to me. " Come with me and let me repay you with a dinner."

He held my interest so I got inside the car without a second thought.

He drove pretty fast but I've never felt like I was in danger. Mr. Riddle stopped the car in front of the house and we got down. The place was exactly the same. He stepped inside and turned the lights on and I followed him. I waited for him in the small living room as he brought us dinner. Riddle stepped in the room half and hour later with two plates of lasagna and we took place at the wooden table.

" You cooked this ?", I asked very surprised.

He stroked his lips with his index finger and raised his eyebrows.

" You're surprised ?"

I felt myself getting red.

" Well...You don't really look like a person who knows how to cook." He was staring at me in the same way so i decided to add: " I'm sorry if i offended you."  
He seemed finally to take pity on me.  
" You didn't. So, if I may ask, how young are you ? "

" I'm 16. "

He hummed.

" And you still didn't tell me your name. "

" Harry," I said.

Riddle dark eyes left the plate and found mine.

" You're the one who was here before me."

I asked him how he knew that.

" You wrote your name on the big tree in front of the house."

" I used to come here everyday after school."

He carefully studied me a period of time.

" You're still welcome to do so."

I was excited by the invitation. I looked around the room after we eat. It wasn't so empty as I first thought. Some photos were on the walls and on a small round table I could see some books.

A tree branch hit a window making me flinch. The way back was going to be a nightmare because of the storm.

Riddle voice woke me up from my daydreaming.

" Your family will be worried," he said as he poured both of us a glass of wine.

I was surprised. Due to my age, my father rarely allowed me to drink alcohol and he was very strict about it. If the man saw my surprised by face he chose not to discuss it. I took a slip from the wine he gave to me.

" There is no one to worry about me," I said. "My family is at Viena."

He played with his glass of wine.

" And still, you're here."

I smiled bitterly.

" I'm not close with them at all. They hate me. Actually no, this is unfair, " I said trying to find a better reason for my staying here, without sounding like some spoiled brat. After some time I said:

"I just don't like Viena. I was three three years ago. How about you? Have you ever seen the city ? "

He shook his head,

" Now is a very bad time for travelling."

" People say that all this threats of war a simple words."

" I must say I don't agree. The war will soon begin."

The certainty of his voice caught my interest. It was obvious he wasn't from here. I wondered one again who was he and what he was doing in London.

" Where is your home ? ", I asked him.

" In a small village from Germany, " Riddle responded, but I could sense from his tone that he wasn't willing to discuss the subject.

A lightning bolt cut the sky in two.

" You should stay here tonight, " he said rising elegantly from his chair.

I followed him up the stairs to the guest chamber at the end of the hall and we both enter in. The room was in a perfect state, so I supposed all the house was cleaned before he moved here.  
" I sleep in the next room, so if something happens you can find me there."

Riddle turn around, but before he stepped outside the room, he said:

" Gute nacht."

I presumed it meant 'good night' so I replayed him the same way before he left me alone in the dark room, lightened from time to time due to the lightening game. I stepped inside the cold bed, and after some time , I've finally fallen asleep.

I was suddenly awakened by some strange sounds. At the begging I was very confused about the place I was in. I left the bed and made my way down to the stairs. The sun had barely risen and the sky it was still full of clouds.

He was in a small glade, and his hands were holding very thight a big sword. The weapon was raised in a perfect arc in an elegant way, soundless. He was looking impressive, almost royal.

Riddle didn't acknowledge my presence but I knew he was aware of me watching him. Around him they were seated some thick logs an in one elegant move he cut them all.

When he finished, the sun was shining. He beckoned me closer with his left hand.

" Hit me."

I hesitated glancing uncertainly at him, asking myself if maybe heard wrong.

He seemed annoyed by my childish hesitation.

" Come one. Hit me," he said again in a tone that did not give me no choice but to obey him.

I threw my fist into his face.

In the next second, I woke up lying on the rain soaked grass. My back was numb although the ground was soft. He put me on my feet again, and his hand was firm and strong. I felt his hot breath on my face and for a moment I was lost just by looking at his parted lips. In front of my confusion he had retained a superior smile.

"Come. Let me show you how it's done."

He said to hit him again -_ slow_. When my fist was near his face, he ably steps to one side and approached me. His rised arm meet mine; with a spiral motion he guided my hand out, grabbed his neck from behind, spined my imbalanced body and he put me down on the ground once again.

After that let me hit him again, and after several attempts I managed to put him down. I was delighted.

He smirked.

" How did you feel ? ", Riddle asked me.

" Powerful. As if nothing could stand in my way."

He seemed satisfied with my answer and we continued to practice until lunch. I was already hungry.

" Do you want to learn more ? ", he asked me.

I nodded my head. He told me to come again the next day. As he drove me back home he told me:

" You must know that I take a heavy responsibility, by training you. Instead, you have to be prepared to totally submit to me. There's no room for uncertainty or hesitation. Are you able to do this ? "

I looked out the car window and I thought about his warning. I felt like he was saying more, even though I could not understand everything. But I was convinced of one thing. I wanted everything Riddle had to offer.


	3. Chapter 3

I spend the rest of the day thinking about the strange new person who entered in my life. The school semester was over, making room for the summer holiday, and I was released from the monotony of learning. I was in an enviable position; money were not an issue, since my acquisition costs were covered by my father's company.

The house servants were busy with their chores and I was left alone most of the time. We came to a silent pact: no negative report from any of us to my father. It was a deal that suited us all.

If I wanted to be trained by Tom, I needed to be discreet. Most servants were British and my friendship with a german could have broken the pact. From the beginning I treated Tom not as someone from another country, and therefore from the first moment we linked a very close relationship.

xxx

I started my lessons the next morning, entering into a ritual of learning which took place mostly uninterrupted for almost three years. I went to his house when it was still dark outside and the moon could be spotted. Tom was waiting me there, dressed in a pair of black cotton pants and a white shirt, wearing a serious expression on his attractive face.

He began with the simplest steps, learning me to slowly get out of the line of attack, with a minimum number of moves.

"In a fight, you must calculate precisely the steps you're going to make," he told me during our first lesson.

I learned from him the details of a blow with the fist or foot and the vital points of a human being.

"To have a strong defense, you must know what types of shots and attacks exist," he said, as I was put on the ground once again. He leaned over me and I could easily breathe his skin scent.

"Look down," Tom told me.

His right leg was propped between my knees. If I tried to move me even a bit, he would have broken my legs.

"Never look at the attacker's hands. Watch their entire body. Then you will know what to do next."

I was taught the major movements in the first four weeks of training. The daily lessons lasted three hours. Sundays, Tom asked me to participate in two sessions, one in the morning and one in the evening. He learned me how to fall safely, to roll on the ground and get up in a firm position when he threw me.

His throws were strong and I initially oppose them, fearing not hurting myself. I stiffened my body every time he tried to throw me in the air.

"You need to let yourself soft," Tom told me, evidently pissed."You will cause yourself more harm if you chose to resist me. Trust me."

It was hard for me to believe him because his instructions seemed contradictory. I let my doubt and agitation aside and I tried to be calm. Tom felt my insecurity and asked me to put my hands on his wrists. His touch relieved me almost immediately, so when he withdrew his hands I felt as if I lost something priceless.

"During our training, trust is the law," said Tom. "I trust you're not going to attack me in that moment and you have to believe that I will not hurt you. Without trust we can't do anything."

I sighed.

"But I have to completely surrender when you throw me."

Tom approached me, until only a few inches were separating us.

"Exactly. Full Submission. That's what I ask you."

He threw me a few times and it began to be easier. I wasn't so tense anymore and my movements were more natural.

Tom smiled.

"I told you. It is quite easy if you follow my lead."

His grey eyes twinkled, pulsing a mysterious energy. I was pinned, like a rabbit hypnotized by the fixed gaze of the tiger. His hands still lingered on my shoulders.

"And never look directly into the eyes of your opponent. Make sure you won't forget this."

It's amazing what one can do when he has an excellent teacher. I knew he was pleased with me when he realized that his lessons weren't easily treated. He never told me, but he had other ways to show me this.

One morning while getting ready to go home after a hard and painful lesson, he put a hand on my shoulder and said:

"I'm not finished."

Tom asked me to follow him into the house. Inside I took place at the dining room table and he sat right next to me. He put in front of us a piece of paper and a pen nib, which cleans easily with a piece of tissue.

"Watch carefully," Tom said, starting to write.

It was strange for me to see the letters I knew so well, and not understand them.

"My name," Tom said, handing me the pen.

His fingers were bent over mine and I suddenly became aware of our physical proximity.

"Try and write the same word."

I copied word without wasting time. Although it was a pretty interesting work, Tom became increasingly impatient.

"Enough. I'll give you some books so you can learn by yourself at home."

He wanted me to learn to speak and write german, perfectly. As for me, I wasn't so excited about the idea.

"Why should I learn the language ? "

Tom looked at me as if I had said the most ridiculous thing in the world.

"Because I've learned yours."

He looked me in the eye.

"And because one day it will save your life."

It was a very hard work but I enjoyed it. Maybe after years of boredom in a rigid school, I was finally free to truly learn.

I spent a lot of time at Tom's home, even when he was in his office at the German consulate. As deputy consul, he took care of business and the small German community. He had enough free time, although sometimes he had to attend receptions and dinners. He refused the offers to stay at the consulates, preferring to live alone.

I said to him that currently Germans were not popular in England, because of the threats of war.

"Let's not talk about the war and events that are not relevant at this time," Tom said in an emphatic tone.

I was already used to his manner of speaking, but his answer seemed confusing. He saw the expression on my face and soften his tone.

"Your government has pressured us to cease the attacks on the other countries. Today I had to listen to the complaints of the government adviser. As if I had a say a thing in the decisions taken at Berlin."

With a wave of my hand I suggested that he didn't have to justify in front of me, because he was right. Tom had nothing to do with what was happening. Why talk about events that did not concern us ?

I looked at the wall full of pictures while he was preparing the meal. He was an avid photographer. There were pictures of what I assumed it was Germany, the majority with cities, villages and mountains, but none of his family. In fact, almost none of the photos were with actual people. They emitted a kind of coldness, an emptiness that I disliked. It was made in haste and not from pure pleasure. It was one with mountains covered in snow that caught my attention.

"Here's where it is ?", I asked him.

Tom shifted his gaze to the photo.

"That is the highest mountain in the world, in India."

I nodded.

"And there ?"

I pointed to what seemed to be the only photo of him. He was placed under a massive sandstone statue of Buddha, carved into a hillside.

"Bamiyan, in Afghanistan. A group of Indian boys took the picture for me."

"You've traveled a lot," I said.

Photos with dense forests, deserted beaches and magnificent mountains were stapled to another wall. I felt his presence behind me.

"Yes, you're right." He chuckled. "Maybe after the end of the war you'll traveling with me."

I didn't understand what was so funny at the time.


	4. Chapter 4

I spent the next day showing Tom London and her surroundings, feeling particularly useful. People were watching us while we walked through the streets. Tom

looked like a foreigner with his too beautiful and aristocratic traits. He was stepping without rush, keeping his back straight and looking at the his surroundings.

I was surprised when he took me to a small community of Germans, near the outskirts of London. It was a crowded area with photo shops, restaurants, and bars. For me there was almost no difference from the English side of the city: even the streets looked almost alike, but they were definitely more cleaner. Several people stopped and politely greeted Tom, when they passed him.

" Here," said Tom, pointing with his finger. " The restaurant I told you about."

The place was pleasantly furnished, modern but not pretentious with walls full of paintings. A blonde woman, very skinny, greeted us at the entrance. Tom nodded at a few customers, as we head towards our table.

" I never realized there are so many Germans in London," I said while a young girl was preparing the table.

I stared at her, amused by the fact that she was blonde too.

" They were here for quite a long time. Much longer that you think."

He ordered for me, and his voice sounded harsh and cold. While eating, I was encouraged by the sudden proximity of us, so I decided to start asking questions.

" What are you doing here ? "

I was curious. He never said much about himself. Tom narrowed his eyes.

" I grew up far from the capital, in a not too pleasant place."

Tom said he came from a wealthy family, that began to decrease in matters of political influence. Their power and influence were weakened by various characters. Tom's father angered Hitler and he moved back to his native village, starting a small business.

" Your father worked for Hitler? " I asked him, very impressed.

Tom shooked his head.

" It is not as important as you think, at least not for our social status."

" With what did your father angered him ? "

" My father had different opinions about the war, opinions which had not kept for himself. He used to tell me that business means war."

Tom was born in 1905, in a fairly quiet period of Germany.

" It is quite strange to live in a foreign country, don't you think so ? "

Silence descended between us, a comfortable one. Only two months passed, since a very handsome man, had come to borrow a car from me ? I felt like I was in a dream.

It was late when he drove me with his car back home. While I was getting out of the car, Tom grabbed my wrist and said:

" I would like to see more of the region. You'll accompany me ? "

" Yes," I said, pleased that he had asked me.

xxx

I became his guide, taking him anywhere he wanted to go. One day, during our regular walks, his voice suddenly interrupted my thoughts.

" Look, a fortune teller," said Tom, pointing to an old Asian woman that was sitting on a corner of a street. " Let's see if we can find something."

I stood before her while she was watching Tom and her eyes became dreamy, as if she was trying to remember a person she had known before. The old women looked back at me and said:

" You and your friend have a past together. An ugly one."

She put a certain accent on the word 'friend', which I didn't like.

Tom smiled slightly.

" So, the words never change."

I expected him to explain, but Tom remained silent, as he took hold of my arm, resuming our walking.

" What did you mean earlier? " I asked, when Tom brought me a cup of coffee from a roadside vendor.

" I have met many fortune tellers, of all kinds, but they always said similar words," he said as we headed to the car.

Tom looked me in the eye.

" They told me that we have known each other for a long time. More that you could ever guess."

I found his words very doubtful and I did not hesitate to say that.

" You're a Christian, Harry. You do not know the Wheel of Becoming in which Buddhists believe."

I shook my head. Tom developed the idea.

" What happens after you die ? "

It was easy to answer.

" You go to heaven - if you're good. "

" But what happened before you were born ? Where were you then? "

That simple question made me think. It could not be heaven. Otherwise, what was the purpose of leaving and returning to it ? Finally I said I do not know.

" You had another life. And so it continues until you will straighten all the mistakes you ever made."

" And then what ? "

His lips curved into a small smile.

" You go in a quiet place."

" Like heaven, " I said.

Tom frowned.

" Maybe."

" So the Christian version is shorter. You only die once."

This time he laughed.

" Oh, definitely."


	5. Chapter 5

The best way to see the place you live is to show it to a friend. Since I was a child, I had taken for granted the beauty of London, and only in my capacity as Tom's guide I learned to look at it with new eyes.

After the experience with the fortune teller, I made the extra effort to make sure we did not have to meet her again. There is never a shortage of places to show him and to impress Tom, I learned more about my home asking the the house servants.

One evening we stopped in front of St. George, attracted by the choir of singing voices. We stepped inside and sat on the very last bench.

" When I was little," I whispered to Tom," I used to sing in the choir."

We sat there listening the traditional English hymns. I quitted singing when my voice changed, four years ago, but everything was the same.

After, while we walked in the churchyard, Tom said:

" It was very ... interesting."

" Perhaps now you can begin to understand why the English feel the need to colonize half of the world."

Tom saw that I was only half serious.

" Explain the last verse. I heard the word sword."

I still could remember them exactly.

" I will not cease to fight with my mint nor sword will sleep in my hand..."

I could read on his face that he was not pleased.

" It's just a song," I said.

" A song strong enough to lead a nation."

It was something that I never thought.

It rained a lot in the days that followed and I could not show him the city until the sky cleared again. Together we explored the quay and the warehouses on the edge of Thames.

" How is called that hill ? "

I knew even without looking at it, what he meant.

" North Downs. The highest point near London. My father has a house up there. Many wealthy people have."

Tom shifted his gaze on me.

" Let's go there," he said.

I made a little mocking bow before him. Tom didn't found it funny.

We climbed on North Downs the next day, at dawn. Tom left the car at the edge of the hill and we began to walk through the forest. It rained the night before and the trail was slippery, dead leaves turning into a soft paste under our boots.

I slipped, but his hand firmly grabbed my waist, restoring my balance.

" Watch your feet."

" Sorry."

Tom didn't seem happy with my simple excuse, but he abandoned the subject.

" How high it is ? " he asked.

" 267 m, more or less. Doesn't compare to the highest mountain in the world."

After an hour, I was over. The bag becomes very heavy and despite my training, I was choking.

" Don't stop," said Tom, squeezing my tired shoulders.

He climbed in front of me, setting the pace. My hands were muddy, because I clung to some branches for support.

We stopped at a small cottage to serve some mulled wine, and we welcomed the other travellers.

" Look at them, Harry," said Tom. " They are not even half as tired as you and many of them are no longer young."

" They climb almost every day. I'm sure they are already used to it."

Tom took out his camera and made a picture of me, while I was sitting on the wooden bench, sipping from a glass of mulled wine.

" Let's go, you've rested enough," he said.

Shortly after, we arrived at my father's house. I took out the key and opened the front door. There was no one inside. My dad used the house it when he went hunting, some time ago.

The house was dusty and cold, with a melancholy air, shrouded in silence. I opened the windows and doors and then went into the garden, where the tree branches swayed in the wind.

Tom climbed onto the wall of granite blocks that surround the property looking somewhere in the distance, while I was watching him. Beautiful was the only word that went through my mind.

" Let me take some shots of you with your camera," I offered.

Tom refused me.

" It wouldn't make any sense."

We spent the evening at the only hotel in the neighborhood, admiring the view.

" When is your family returning ? " asked Tom as he poured me a drink.

" In two or three months."

The alcohol stung my tongue when I tasted it.

" Tell me about them."

I thought for a while before I responded him.

" My father is 37 years old, I look a lot like him. Many women still considered him attractive, unlike myself."

Tom arched an eyebrow.

" I'm afraid I don't agree. You're a very handsome young man. Now, go on."

Glad that he considered me attractive, I resumed my description.

" I have a brother and a sister. Will is 23 years old and people say he looks a lot like our mother. He graduated last year and my dad wants him to work for the family business."

" Like all fathers," said Tom.

" My sister, Tessa, is 21 years old and she always does what she wants. She wasn't very excited to hear that I didn't want to come with them."

" And where are you located ? "

I shrugged.

" Not sure."

Tom was silent and I found myself saying all the things I wasn't able to tell dad.

" I am different, and to be honest I never felt part of the family. I'm like a stranger among them."

" I understand better than you think."

That night, the restaurant was populated mostly by older officers of the British Army in uniform, with their wives. I recognized some of them. Their voices were loud, cheerful and carefree. Tom was studying them carefully. The music began to play and a few men and their wives began to dance.

" A popular place for the army," remarked Tom.

" Oh, yes. They have a small garrison here, as a monitoring point. It makes sense, because from up here you can see all of London and its surroundings."

" Everywhere," he said.

" Yes, everywhere. Maybe even to Germany."

Tom laughed.

" Then I should come here more often."


	6. Chapter 6

I found out that Tom was searching for a home consulate, which the staff could use on vacation. We went to a house whose style mimics the Tudor's, which was built on the north side of the hill. I had a panoramic view of the surroundings.

"It's always rented to hikers," I said. "The owner is an American businessman."

Tom studied it and took a series of photos.

"We'll see if it fits the consul preferences. But I'm sure Gellert will like the house. It has a phone number ?"

"Yes, it's written on the front door."

After he noted the phone number, we started walking back to my father's house. The path was undulating along gates and entrances to other houses, all occupied by the British. Tom's voice woke me from my day dreaming.

"I intend to make a short visit to Manchester in the next few days. Again, I need someone familiar with the city. Would you like to join me ?"

I didn't hesitate even for a moment.

"When we leave ?"

xxx

When I returned, Alastor Moody, our family driver, was coming out of the garage. He looked at me, narrowing his only one eye left.

"You spent your time with that bloody German. If your dad finds out ..."

"Yes, I did. But my father will find out, only if you tell him."

He wasn't satisfied with my answer.

"I have to send the car to the workshop. I don't know how long the repairs will take. For a while I can't lead you."

I shook my head.

"It doesn't matter. Next week I'm off to Manchester with Mr. Riddle."

"That man is not reliable," said Moody.

I chuckled, rolling my eyes.

"You dislike all the Germans."

"I have a good reason."

I heard the anger in his voice and I stopped nagging him. I knew his family was in Germany from my father.

"Is your family safe ?"

I found it hard to believe that Tom's people were like Moody said, but I didn't say anything to him.

He nodded, but said:

"At least for now."

I wanted to say something, but I couldn't find the right words. One thing I knew for sure. I couldn't give up on Tom, on the moments spent together and his lessons. It was impossible, and besides, Tom wasn't responsible for what was happening in his country.

I watched Moody while he was leaving. I knew he was fifty years old, but he looked much older. The other servants were afraid of his temper, and they avoided him wherever they could.

Moody suddenly turned around.

"Your grandfather wants to meet you during your trip to Manchester. I'll tell him to set the meeting."

I frowned. It was going to be a very interesting journey.

xxx

Tom left the car in a port from Edinburgh. The visit to Manchester was delayed for more than a month due to his work obligations and I became quite anxious for us to just leave for a while.I was excited, feeling ready to get off on an adventure and an unrestrained smile lighted my whole face. Tom saw my expression, and he threw me a little smirk in response.

He rented a ship from a Danish man and we waited at the end of the pier for a boat carrying us on board. The small boat,in which a boy of my age was paddling, was gliding on the waves, pushing me back against Tom's chest on every move. The action gaved me more pleasure than it was normal.

While we were leaving the port on board of the ship, I looked back at the city in the distance. The sea lit up around us, changing it hazy shade before sunrise on a crystalline blue. Some jellyfish were floating in the water, and their tentacles were scattered around them.

The Danish man was watching us carefully. He wasn't young but he looked pretty strong.

"I'm glad to see you again, Mr. Riddle," he said.

Tom told me that the Captain name was Albertus. The man looked closely at me when Tom mentioned my name.

"Potter, from the company ?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied, looking at the man.

After Albertus leaved, Tom sat down, but I was stretched over the balustrade, looking at the sea. I sat the straw hat on my head and I smiled stupidly at Tom. He just raised his eyebrows, but I knew he was amused.

"You have never been on a ship before, isn't it ?" Tom said.

"No, never."

In all my travels I'be been either by car or by train.

"Then you will love these days. We will not rush, because it will be a stop that I want to do."

The stop didn't bother me, because Tom company was the only thing that interested me. The trip was was just a bonus.


	7. Chapter 7

We arrived in Manchester late afternoon. A car was waiting for us, right in front of the port.

The Japanese Embassy was located near the periphery of the city, close to a small restaurant. The guard at the gate greeted us as we entered.

A young man in military uniform brought our luggage in the bedrooms. We were said to change our clothes, before going to see the ambasador. The same young man led us into a room elegantly furnished. The portrait of Adolf Hitler stand out imediatly, being located high on the wall in front of us. The door opened suddenly and a tall man enters the room, which I assumed it was Gellert Grindelwald.

The ambassador was a blond man, distinguished and arrogant, less when he was smiling. Then, he just looked handsome. In his black suit, he seemed much older than Tom, although his movements were as graceful.

"This is your pupil ?" he asked, smiling at me.

He said the word pupil in a strange tone.

"Yes, Gellert," Tom said calmly.

Grindelwald nodded.

"How is he handling ?"

Tom gave me a quick glance.

"Very well."

Tom had never commented about my studies. To hear him praising me before the ambassador, made me extremely proud.

They changed it immediately to German and Grindelwald looked closely at me to see if I could track their conversation. His accent was a little rougher than Tom's, but after a few minutes I got used.

We were served dinner shortly after, on some big porcelain dishes, and I was more than happy to start eating. I was starving.

"What's the situation in London ?" asked Grindelwald, taking a sip of his wine.

Tom put his hand on the back of the chair, absently playing with the ring on his finger.

" people are happy and there aren't any troublesome issues. We found a house for rent on the North Downs, suitable for our needs. Besides this, I explored the city."

Grindelwald smiled.

"Very interesting," he said in English.

I stopped eating, knowing that it was a direct reference to me. Suddenly Grindelwald no longer seemed so harmless. I felt like a mouse in front of a cat.

"You seem to know many things about me," I said, throwing a glance at Tom, who slightly nodded at me.

"I made a goal to get to know my friends," said Grindelwald. "I heard that your father is the head of the largest trading company in London."

"Yes, he is."

"We have some business men interested in London. Do you think your father would consider collaborating with them? A partnership with these people? They are very keen to get involved in your father's business."

I thought about what he really wanted to know. I suspected that our future may depend on the answer I gave, and Tom intense gaze confirmed my suspicions.

"I think he would be willing to listen, but I cannot speak on his behalf. You'll have to ask him personally."

Grindelwald leaned back in his chair.

"I guess you're right."

He pressed his lips together.

"Would you be interested to work for us, once you finish your studies? I understand that you have left just one year. "

I threw Tom a quick look.

"In what position?" I asked.

"As someone who maintains the ties between our peoples."

Grindelwald noticed my hesitation.

"You do not have to answer right now. Your work will be interesting, I assure you."

I promised Grindelwald that I will consider his offer and he smiled, saying:

"Did you like the food? I saw that you were quite hungry."

Suddenly the door opened and a soldier bowed in front of Grindelwald. Next to him was a young girl, poorly dressed, with her hair bound in two pigtails.

No one spoke, and I looked in Tom eyes, but he refused to meet my gaze. The silence was broken by Grindelwald.

"Raise her face for me."

The soldier put his fingers under the girl's chin and lifted her face.

"Take off her dress."

The same hand got down the girl's chin and he loosened the buttons of her dress, baring her small breasts.

Grindelwald studied her and sketched a small smile, like a cat. His throat throbbed and his tongue touched his upper lip. As for Tom, he behaved as if he witnessed a conversation about the weather, and I felt no hunger anymore.


End file.
